


The Moon and Her Planet

by ravenously



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Snowpiercer (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blow Jobs, Corsetry, F/M, Porn With Plot, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenously/pseuds/ravenously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Winter commissioned only the finest blue fabrics for the princess to wear. Unfortunately, the beautiful dress doesn't stay on for very long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moon and Her Planet

His fingers slide down the curve of her waist. Even through the thick corset, the even thicker expensive fabric of the dress, the princess can feel the rough calluses as his hands lightly stroke her. She knows firsthand the destruction those hands can wreak, and yet they’re as soft as a flower’s petal when they touch her, almost worshipful. 

She shivers. 

This is the first time anyone has touched her like this, and the first time she’s ever felt these kind of curves from her body. She’d tried on some wandering noble’s daughter’s corset once, but it wasn’t the same; it was too tight, constricting her ribs. The fit was odd, and too small, and left her more lumpy than anything. 

But this one… This one is perfectly fit to her body, custom for her unique build. It creates feminine curves that she can’t stop marveling at in the mirror. If she focuses on her body from the neck down, she can almost believe it. 

With Prince Winter’s hands stroking her like he would a woman’s, she can believe it. Regardless of her shape, of her face, of her father’s preconceptions, if Prince Winter can see her as the woman she is, than she can too. 

The Princess has to nearly bite back a moan when his fingers move around the swell of her hips. With her waist so cinched, there is a swell, and it’s that realization that makes her normal bile-inducing self hatred fall away. 

Every time she’s looked at herself in a mirror, or seen the way a tailor grooms her and fashions clothes for her, she’d felt a wave of heated hatred, of perceived ugliness. It falls away now, in a way she never thought would.

She’s not sure if the Prince loves her, but she’s certain this is what love feels like, both from within herself and received. 

“Gorgeous.” The Prince murmurs, in a slow voice, barely above a whisper. It’s not the robotic, forced intonations that his father forced on him. Neither is it the drunken self-pitying man she’s fallen in love with. No, it’s an entirely new voice unto itself, something confident, something loving, emotional. Something perfect. 

This is a moment of perfection. It will be popped eventually, and she’ll have to face the reality of her life. But here, in this grand room with the only evidence of the man Winter used to be, with the validation of the person that the Princess knows she is, there’s perfection. 

“You think so?” She asks, her voice equally as breathy. Higher. Feminine. Having to cough past the gravel of her voice doesn’t even break the spell. In this moment, every part of her is the woman she knows she is, down to her father’s most prime examples of why she could never be the way she wants to be. 

Everything in this room proves him wrong. 

“Of course, my dear.” Winter continues, and she shivers once more when she feels him nosing into her hair, his lips close to her ear. “The most beautiful being I have ever seen.”

Her breath catches, but she tries not to let it show how much this means to her. “This is just flattery. Verbose flattery.”

“Nonsense. I mean every single word.” He practically purrs the next ones, and she can just imagine the smile on his face, fern-curled and confident in a way that speaks only the truth. “Like the moon herself decided to grace me with her presence. I am humbled to be near your person.”

And she thought she was the dramatic poet. Winter is more alive than even she could have imagined. And his life only spurns more energy into her. 

Her body feels like static, numb and on fire all at once. She glances up and her mental image of Winter’s smile is reflected back at her. She gulps; He could kill her just with that look alone. She wants to kiss him in a way she’s never kissed anyone before, with passion rather than duty, love rather than despair. 

Winter looks back at her, blue eyes unwavering with their gaze. Deliberately, without cutting contact, he leans in closer, sweeping past her hair to give her a gentle, tantalizing kiss on her cheek. The movement, the touch, is so reverent, so anticipated, that it feels far more intimate than it is. “Let us do your hair. Then I would love to have the honor of kissing you properly.”

The princess’ heart flutters. Perhaps it truly is meant to be, because Winter, he must have- “I just thought the same thing. Are you- Did I say it aloud? Are you reading my mind?” Her voice is breathy, as though she can’t bring in enough oxygen. She feels lightheaded, but in a beautiful, stunning way. If she is the moon, then Winter is the earth itself, and she is in his orbit. 

Winter’s mouth breaks into a proper grin and he lets out a giggle. “No, my dear, but I confess, it’s something I’ve been wanting to do for some time. If it’s alright.”

“If it’s- Of course it’s-” She huffs and pauses, so as not to make a stuttering fool out of herself. “I- Who will be doing my hair?”

“Me.” She knows he could bring in a servant, have it be a perfect hairstyle, but this makes it an act of intimacy. His hands in her hair… She shivers. She’s not quite so sure she can keep herself calm enough to last until a kiss. The thought of her father wreaking violent destruction on innocent animals should be enough of a blood-stopper, though. 

She’d rather not ruin the dress before Winter even has the chance to take it off of her. 

Her hair takes nearly a half an hour to curl and pull into something top-heavy. The Prince is better at hair than she expected, considering he leave it to hang limp and drab the majority of the time. 

The look barely matters, though. The feels of Winter’s hands in her hair, moving around her scalp… That is far more important than a silly hairdo. Regardless, when she looks at herself in the mirror and sees the way curled hair frames her face, she can’t help the smile that pulls across her lips. 

She’s pulled from her thoughts when she feels lips touching her ear, kissing her softly. She shivers once more and pulls her head away, looking at him reproachfully. “If you don’t restrain yourself, Prince Winter, this dress will be ruined and all those hard hours will be for naught.”

“If a mere kiss on the ear reduces you so, my princess, you are in for a world of revelation tonight.” 

She groans. He’s being a shit, and he knows it. “I’m aware. I would much rather get to that point than be spent before a true kiss even happens.” 

Winter laughs, and moves in front of her, stepping into her space. He gives a mock sigh. “Then perhaps we should start the kissing now. Just to be safe.” And without waiting for her retort, he leans down and kisses he first on the corner of her lips, another one of those tantalizingly soft and gentle pecks. 

She must surprise him when she moves to meet him headlong, for his eyes widen and he gives a choked noise before he melts against her lips. The two of them seem to melt together, in all honesty, the blue of her dress meeting the red of his vest. If she were a painter, she’s be frightened of mixing such a volatile concoction of lilac. 

His hands wrap around her waist, possessive but firm, leaving her feeling grounded and safe, for the first time in her life. Her breath comes out in little gasps and huffs, before she pulls back and searches Winter’s face, trying to find- Trying to find something that will make this fairy tale seem like reality, to force it to make sense. 

“Why? Why do this?” Her voice is low, wanting, but scared. This is a vulnerability that only Winter has seen. 

“Why do anything?” His lips are plump and ripe like a fruit, shoulders relaxed and full of comfort. This is not the man she met in a meeting room, stiff back and emotionless to the core. This is not the automaton monster that Pierce created to strike raw, red fear into the hearts of his countrymen. This is a soft, romantic man desperately seeking a reason to give his love. And she can see that this stance, this easy, vulnerable man only exists because of her. He is like this for her. “Enjoyment is it’s own reason.”

She turns to meet his eyes, giving a soft nod. “Then by all means; enjoy me.”

“I have to admit; I’ve been enjoying you for quite some time. Perhaps being impure of heart since you first brought me wine.” He doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest. If anything, he seems all the more confident. 

She can’t help but let out a two-tone laugh. “I admit I’ve been attracted to you for quite some time, but I never thought-” She cuts herself off. It seems like that would be too much, even now, to admit she never thought he would think of her the same way she thinks of him. 

“That anything would come of it? Neither did I. But as you say, you are being selfish with me.” He pauses, and breathes out, “Take from me anything you want.”

“I will take what you give me.”

“And I will give you my entire being. Anything you ask.” There’s a devotion behind every single word, full truth uttered with each syllable. 

“Then give what you wish to and nothing more. Let me have only what you believe I should. I won’t make requests.” It is only fair to him, to her. 

He surprises her, though, saying, “I wish to give you everything. I am yours. Entirely.” His breath comes out in a near-laugh, like his statement surprised even him. Winter leans in to kiss her once more. “Yours.”

When she kisses him again, it’s with far more frenzy and passion than the previous times. There is gratitude behind each movement. He has managed to make her happy. She’s… She’s happy. The Princess kisses him for minutes, before the thought breaks into her mind and she pulls away, eyes wide and wanting. 

“I lied. There is one thing I would like to ask you.”

Winter laughs again, practically glowing in his own mirth and happiness. She has never seen him this light, before. “Ask away, dear. I am at your service.”

She holds her breath for a second before she lets her words tumble out as quickly as possible. “Would you lie with me? Take me out of this dress and let me strip you and–do all manner of impure things?" 

He looks surprised, his face breaking out in another one of his grins. “I wanted to ask the same of you. However, I did not want to relieve you of your dress so quickly.”

“Then take it off slowly.” She leans back in the chair, pushing her chest out just a little. His fingers lean in to brush against one of the buttons. “But-” She says, pushing back on his hand. “Keep the corset on. I want it on the entire time.” 

He looks down at her waist once more, eyes wide and nodding before his head does the same. “Of course. The corset and nothing more.” He leans in to kiss at her again, fingers stroking her collarbone. 

The Princess grins into the kiss, giddiness bubbling up from her chest. Her fingers scrabble at Winter’s vest, seeking for purchase against the buttons to start all but ripping it off of him. He promised to go slow and careful, but she promised no such thing. 

His clothes are removed before her dress is even off her shoulders the entire way. When she finally helps him from his pants, she leans back, pulling away from any kissing to stare at his naked body. 

He’s wide and muscular, each plane of his body just as dangerous as the next. She cannot wait to lick a map into each dip and valley of his skin, to know him better than she knows herself. He’s hard, and she takes a moment to stare at that alone, before she pulls her head back up and meets his eyes. 

Winter moves forward then, pulling her closer as he slowly starts to work on untying the dress from her. Whereas she ripped and pushed the clothes from his body, Winter is soft and gentle, careful not to even wrinkle the fabric, let alone ruin it. Each touch is like he is at an alter in church, praising and full of gold-plated divinity. He stares at her bare shoulders like they’re the mountains of impure beauty personified, and then he’s licking into her collar bones, fingers slowly working the sleeves lower down her arms.

He kisses each new path of fresh skin as it’s revealed to the air. When she’s forced to stand for him to continue, he just moves lower and lower down her body, kissing her thighs, her calves, until he’s kneeling down at her feet, kissing them as he finally pulls her from the dress. 

Winter stays there in complete submission for a moment, until she murmurs, “You are absolutely wonderful” and he pulls himself up until he’s sitting on his knees. 

His eyes are hazy, barely there but blissed out. “I want you to feel like heaven itself.” He gets to his feet and holds out his hand, offering it to her. 

The Princess looks at it for a moment before holding out her own hand, cocked in a feminine way- wrist high and fingers low and splayed in a casual vulnerability- that she has never allowed herself before this. 

Winter takes her hand and leans in to kiss the back of it before he gives a low, proper bow, as though they’re partners at a ball, and the first dance of the night has begun. 

In a way, it has. 

He leads her to his bed, pondering for a moment before he seems to decide that she should be on her back for this, underneath him. He lays over her, hands cupping her face while he kisses her again, briefly. She tries to meet him, but she’s too slow- all too quick, he’s sliding off of her, going to his knees at the foot of the bed. 

After some adjustment- there was a reason why she hadn’t ruined the dress before- her cock is freed. The discomfort from it being tucked but aroused disappears, and she breather a sigh of relief that hitches into a gasp as Winter’s mouth wraps around the tip, wet tongue swiping around in a way that leaves the princess grasping the sheets to keep from moving too much. 

She had been afraid that doing anything like this would cause the spell to be broken. And yet, with Winter’s careful intimacy and passion, she still feels comfortably and perfect for him. Satisfied. 

A moan breaks free from her lips when, after minutes of working up to it, Winter swallows her entire length, eyes unwavering as he looks up the planes of her body and into her face. 

It doesn’t take long- It’s not as though she’s used to this much stimulation. And with so much buildup, so much… care, it’s really a surprise that it took this long for her to finally come. 

It’s at this moment that he really kills her, her voice rising in a scream of passion. He comes just from watching her, and the sight is beautiful enough that the Princess wishes she could go again. 

When their bodies both stop tingling, he moves onto the bed next to her, pulling her close to him and kissing into her hair. His fingers absentmindedly stroke down her waist, lips lazily lifting upwards whenever he pulls back enough to just look at her, drinking in the sight. 

She can barely speak, but after minutes of laying together, she scoots in close and murmurs into his ear, “Thank you. Thank you, my dearest Winter.” 

He merely nods, and says, “I wish to please you with each and every breath I take. In whatever means that is.”

Her mouth breaks into a grateful smile and she curls into him. They whisper to one another between kisses until they finally fall asleep, touching one another like their lives depend on it. She’s never been in love. But the princess thinks that she might be learning that, with each passing second.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://buckycurtis.tumblr.com)


End file.
